I almost laughed. When I wasn’t feeling guilt over Hue, there were a hundred other things ready to fill my head with worry. “What do you suggest? Should I take up baking?”
Linaeve’s form grew cloudy and I worried that I’d angered her.
“I apologize,” Linaeve said. Her form grew bright again and I could see her facial features. She wasn’t scowling, but she did wear a slightly pained expression. “I just had…a moment. A memory, perhaps.”
My ears perked up. “Really?”
“It was just a second. Just a flash. You said something impertinent—”
“Sorry,” I said, squirming.
“I saw a different person standing in your place. A million feelings. A thousand words all in one instant. How can I describe it?” Her voice grew fast and breathless. “I saw him, just as though he was standing here.”
I’d never seen the spirit grow so emotional. Fortunately, I knew some of the sordid details of the life of Linaeve Winterwing, nee´ Grimmoix. She had left Ivywild to marry the Slaugh king. I often wondered what kind of man Hagan Winterwing was to lure away somebody like Linaeve. It wasn’t as though she’d had a bad life at Ivywild. She’d been close friends with Florrie Finbarr and Othella when they were young. Then again, she’d been raised by her aunt, High Priestess Grimmoix. That would be enough to drive anyone away.
“Maybe it was your husband!” I said in excitement.
Linaeve shook her head. “I cannot say. My past is of no consequence.”
“But—”
“We must find some way to occupy your mind,” Linaeve said with a dangerous tone of finality.
Disappointed, I stared at the floor. “If you insist.”
“What of your family?” Linaeve asked. “You haven’t spoken of them in a while.”
My family history read like one long tragedy. I far preferred teasing out the secrets of Linaeve’s life.
“I’m sensing resistance,” Linaeve said.
“Mom and Dad are dead,” I said. “There isn’t much to tell.”
“But what about your grandparents?” Linaeve asked. “Your grandfather was a priest, wasn’t he?”
“Yes,” I said. The Seelie Court threw that fact in my face every time they got the chance.
“What happened to him?” Linaeve asked. “What caused him to send your father away to the human world?”
I was about to reply when I realized I didn’t really have an answer. All I knew of my grandfather, Alberich, was that he had been a priest but was later condemned as a dissenter because he married in secret. After that the details became blurry. My father had been sent away using a stolen Pyxis Charm while Alberich and his wife had died in some kind of attack.
“See?” Linaeve said. “It gives you something to seek.”
I had assumed that if I was meant to know what had happened to my grandparents, I would have been told by now. In my mind they had just been casualties of Faylinn’s murky, violent past.
“I guess I could work it out,” I said. “I don’t know where to start, though. My family tree in the orchard wasn’t able to show me.”
“Well, think of others who were alive in his time. Surely somebody exists who knew him,” Linaeve said.
I knew of a few people, but they weren’t exactly fans of mine. “Judge Kesper acts like he knew my grandfather pretty well. I could never talk to him, though. He’s awful! Then there’s High Priestess Grimmoix. She would have known about grandpa’s training at least. There’s no way I’m bringing it up with her. She’d just call me names and insult him to boot.”
“Nechtu riskint nechtu gwifirun,” Linaeve said.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Linaeve smiled. Her nearly transparent body shimmered. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
True to Linaeve’s advice, the question of my grandparents did occupy my mind. I thought about it the whole time I was in the garden with Anouk. Though I pleaded, Anouk wouldn’t let me go into the library. I wanted to see if I could find out my grandmother’s maiden name so I could eat fruit from her family tree.
“Not today,” Anouk said for the third time as she cracked nuts into a grinding bowl. “What’s eating you, anyways?”
I waited until Anouk wasn’t looking and snuck a nut out of the bowl. “Nothing in particular.”
Anouk gave me a knowing look from beneath her droopy head scarf. “There’s another mark for the Door to heckle you about.”
“What?” I asked innocently.
“You just lied,” Anouk said. “And stole.” She glanced at my palm.
I tossed the nut back into the bowl. “I can’t get anything past you. You’d make a really good mother.”
Anouk’s eyes widened in surprise. She blushed. “Now that’s one I’ve never heard before! Course, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Being a priestess an all…” she sighed and stared wistfully into the branches waving overhead.
I was reminded again of my grandfather. “Why?” I asked.
Anouk shook off her daze and went back to cracking nuts. “Why what?”
“Why can’t priests and priestesses have children?
Anouk looked at me like I was crazy. “We have to remain whole in spirit. A whole spirit means—”
“Yeah, yeah, that old line,” I said. “Why is it really?”
Anouk pursed her lips in thought. For once, her wise, rosy face looked dark with worry. “The reason given is good enough. We must keep ourselves whole in service of the cathedral. I suppose children are a distraction, and you can’t be distracted from your studies. We clergy are the ones responsible for preserving all Fay history.”
I still wasn’t satisfied. Cathedral doctrine was nothing if not vague. Though they called themselves priests and priestesses, they didn’t actually worship anything. Fay considered themselves to be gods. They’d even appeared to humans in the past, claiming to be Neptune or Zeus or Thor or other deities, just for fun. Conjuring lightning and other divine acts were mere parlor tricks to them. I thought it was mean-spirited, but one could not argue against their power. Their history and vast stores of knowledge were a testament to their rise, so they were fiercely protective of it.
If I thought about it long enough, I got this uncomfortable little twitch at the base of my skull. What good was hoarding a legacy if it came at the expense of neglecting the future? The Fay were so comfortable in their place that they were borderline arrogant…okay, full-blown arrogant. Even with crowds seeking refuge behind the castle walls, the sentiment was still that the Fay were infallible. I wondered if it wouldn’t be better for the clergy to start training people in combat and defense rather than steeping themselves in history. It was one of the things I planned to bring up to Chloe when she reached the position to do something about it.
I heard a rustle in the trees above. Anouk and I glanced up to see a couple of blackbirds flying away. They left behind a sprinkle of falling leaves. A big one drifted down over my head. I thought I saw something written on it.
Anouk shrugged and went back to her bowl of nuts. “I guess we’re done for today unless you want to recite the Battle of Billabell Bay again.”
I waited until she was distracted and snatched the leaf out of the air. “I’ll pass.” I stood up and brushed off my robe.
“See you tomorrow!” Anouk called as I walked away. “Remember to save room for my crispy bread!”
When I was outside the garden, I unwrinkled the leaf. It contained a message. I recognized the handwriting and my stomach did a flip. It was only two words: Valkyrie Peak.
“What are you smiling about?” Chloe asked.
I shrugged and watched as the princess moved tiny figures around a map. The tip of her tongue was pressed against the corner of her mouth and her purple ringlets hung down on the paper, occasionally knocking over a tent or a miniature person.
Chloe looked tired, but she was far healthier than she had been only months ago. Her angular face was starting to fill out. Her arms and legs were n
o longer like sticks. She’d taken to wearing dresses made of heavy material in rich colors like maroon and amber rather than the wispy pink things she used to wear. Much to my surprise (and relief) she was starting to look like a mature, sophisticated young woman.
“Damn it all!” she exclaimed, pounding her fist on the map. A miniature tent near her fingers exploded into flame. She huffed and put out the little fire.
“Take a rest,” I suggested. “You’ll get it. Rome wasn’t built in a day. You can’t solve all of Ivywild’s problems in one night.”
Chloe wrinkled her brow. “What’s Rome?”
“Never mind,” I said, rising from the table. I paced around her room, pausing to look out of the window. The day’s last light illuminated the tent tops in the residential quarter, turning them into golden cones.
“Where are we going to put them all?” Chloe asked. She, too, was staring at the tents. “Loosestrife is already too crowded. There’ve been reports of strange activity in North Embyre and you’d better believe I’m not sending anyone over to Larlaith to ask for the Dookie of Briar’s help.”
I sighed. Chloe could poke fun and the duke all she wanted, but he was a real a real threat. He commanded a personal army as big as Ivywild’s own forces.
“Why not try to fix the real problem?” I asked. “If people aren’t scared, they won’t feel the need to relocate.”
Chloe pressed both hands to the sides of her head. “Emma, I love you but sometimes I just want to…to…”
I raised an eyebrow. “To what?”
Chloe threw up her hands. “I know you’re right, okay? But it’s not like I haven’t been trying! It’s just that with all the rumors flying around it’s hard to get people to see what’s real and what’s just hearsay. I mean, there have been some disappearances, but it’s not like they’re happening every day, you know? Those people could very well have fallen prey to trolls or kelpies or something! Nobody said it was her monsters.”
There were Fay scouts all over the forests and plains beyond Ivywild looking for evidence of Robyn’s mechamen, or Robyn herself. So far, they’d turned up nothing.
“You know what just really puts a cherry on the whole thing?” Chloe said. She grabbed a pillow, tossed it into the air and incinerated it.
“Don’t do that,” I said, coughing as bits of burnt feathers went up my nose.
“The blasted Seelie Court!” Chloe fumed. “Every time I issue a proclamation with our scouts’ findings, they go and issue their own proclamation about ‘personal protection’ and ‘compromised areas.’ Here, look at this!” She picked a wadded piece of yellow paper off her dresser and threw it at me.
I unwadded it and read a warning that was written in bold, eye-catching script:
CITIZENS BEWARE! ROAMING MECHA-BEASTS AND MURDERERS SPOTTED IN FAYLINN COUNTRYSIDE! THE SEELIE COURT VOWS EXPEDIENT JUSTICE AGAINST THESE ABOMINATIONS. IN THE INTERIM, ALL EMERALD RANKS AND LOWER ARE ENCOURAGED TO SEEK PROTECTION NEAR IVYWILD.
—THE SEELIE COURT—
“SERVANTS OF THE PEOPLE”
“They’re making me look like an idiot!” Chloe fumed. “‘All Emerald Ranks and lower’ means well over half the population!”
I was trying to think of something to say to calm her down when the door flew open. A long cart of sumptuous treats rolled into the room. A tall, rather unattractive maid pushed the cart. Her dress was too short, revealing unusually fuzzy legs, and her hair was a garish color of tangerine.
“Dinner!” the maid said in a crackling singsong voice.
Chloe eyed the food wistfully, but she gave the girl a frown. “Who’re you? Where’s Vespa?”
The maid busied herself with setting up the serving dishes. “Vespa took ill. She’s got the Barbegazi Flu, I’m afraid. Highly contagious. I heard you get it from kissing too many frogs.”
Chloe and I exchanged a dubious look.
“What about Midge?” Chloe asked.
“Hmm?” the maid said. She dipped her finger into a bowl of cream and licked it. “Oh, Midge? Is that the maid with green hair and a nice, round bu—I mean—hat?”
Chloe glanced at the bowl of cream and made a disgusted face. “Midge never wears a hat.”
“Oh,” the maid said. She tried to slice a hard-boiled egg and made a terrible mess of it.
Chloe placed her hands on her hips and trounced out of the room. “I’m going to check your credentials. Keep an eye on her, Emma.”
As soon as Chloe left, the girl grinned and winked at me. “How do you like the new outfit?”
I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing here, Bazzlejet?”
He puffed out his stuffed bosom. “Security, of course. W.R.A.I.T.H. wants somebody close to Princess Chloe at all times.”
“Why don’t you just tell her? She has to find out about W.R.A.I.T.H. eventually. Her mother runs the place!”
Chloe came back into the room. Bazzlejet and I fell silent and tried to look innocent.
“Did you find the taskmaster?” Bazzlejet asked in his girl voice.
Chloe glared at him. “He went to his quarters earlier this evening with a headache…something about an accidental shock. I suppose you’ll do for now. Just don’t touch any more of the food.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “Will you stay and eat?”
I glanced out the window. The sky was growing dark. I swiped a roll from the food cart. “I’ll catch up with you later. I’ve gotta run.”
“Off to practice, I presume?” Chloe said.
I nodded. “Where can I find you when I get back?”
Sadness flitted over Chloe’s face, causing her jewel green eyes to grow misty. “I think…I think I will go sit with father. It doesn’t do much good anymore. He doesn’t even know me.”
The king was but a shadow. Nobody denied it, but I could tell it hurt Chloe badly. Though it made me feel awkward, I tried to be there for support. I’d watched my mother fade away because of illness. Thankfully, Dad and I had each other to get through it. Chloe had a kingdom full of servants but few friends.
“I’ll come too, if you’d like,” I said.
Chloe managed a little smile. “That would be nice.”
Bazzlejet lumbered awkwardly over the serving dishes. His tangerine wig was starting to go crooked. I gave it a quick tug as I walked by him.
“Behave,” I whispered.
He gave a barely discernible nod and then grinned at Chloe. “Let me get your plate, Your Highness.”
I heard a crash of china as I went out to the hall, followed by Chloe shouting and swearing. I doubted that Bazzlejet had any idea what he was in for.
A cool, slow rain drizzled from the evening sky above Valkyrie Peak. Its quiet beauty was inscribed on pages 238-241 of Gulliver’s Guide to Ancient Shrines: a Hobgoblin’s Perspective.
Shale crunched beneath my boots. I cringed. I’d have to be quieter. Lev was much faster than I could ever be. My only advantage lay in anticipating his attacks and not making myself an easy target. After taking a look around, I removed my boots.
The rocks were cold and sharp beneath my bare feet. I’d have cuts but that was okay; I’d get Violet to heal them. The younger princess had become my personal physician. Thanks to her, my cuts and bruises went away quickly and I had a cupboard of crystal-derived supplements—the Fay equivalent to a multi-vitamin.
The summit loomed above me, its jagged form like a black anvil against the sky. Lev could use any one of its crevasses or overhangs to conceal himself.
The drizzle muffled every sound except my rapid breathing. I took a moment to focus. This was no different from any other practice. I’d just have to stay one step ahead.
A dark figure plummeted from out of nowhere and knocked me backwards.
The game was on. Lev vanished once more into the night. I regained my balance and palmed the hilt of my shortsword. It was a light weapon with a nice reach. I had become confident with it over the past few months.
The wind carried the sound of wings to me. It sounded
as if Lev was somewhere high and to my left. I crouched low and waited in a neutral stance. He’d warned me never to assume which direction an ambush could come from. It was better to be prepared for an attack from any side.
He dove in from my right. I pivoted and met him head-on with my sword drawn. He did a back flip and landed a few paces away.
“Good,” he said. “I see that last lesson sank in.”
“I have a scar to remember it by,” I said, watching him carefully.
He started to circle. I kept him in my sights, careful not to put my back to him. I made no move to attack. That never worked with Lev.
I saw the flash of his white wings and he vanished only to reappear behind me. I was too slow to react and he pushed me to my knees. The jagged rocks dug into my kneecaps.
“What did you do wrong?” he asked.
“I didn’t keep one shoulder back.” I stood up and brushed rocks and dirt from my legs.
“Precisely,” Lev said. “Try again.”
I readied my sword. Lev started to circle again. This time I kept my stance open to defend from the front or the behind.
Lev took his time. The rain had made his hair lay back off his forehead. His eyes glimmered animal-like in the night. The scar on his cheek shone jagged on his white skin. I had grown used to the scar. Like most things with Lev, it was a mystery. I was used to that, too.
Lev flicked two daggers from his belt and charged so fast that I dared not even blink. I caught him staring at my right shoulder. As a novice I would have assumed that’s where he was going to strike, but I knew better now. I lifted the shortsword with my left arm and blocked his blow.
“Good,” Lev said. He stepped back. “You’re showing improvement. Who would have guessed?”
The comment made me think of High Priestess Grimmoix. I wished I could do as well with magic as with combat.
“Snap out of it,” Lev said, scowling. “We aren’t done yet.”
I readied my sword again. Lev backed away until he blended in with the shadows.
The rain grew heavier. Droplets as fat as acorns pelted my head. The rocks became slippery under my bare feet. This was going to be difficult.
The Flute Keeper's Promise (The Flute Keeper Saga) Page 3